by Debra Webb
“Reasonable?” She looked directly at him, those dark eyes clear and crackling with determination. “What’s reasonable about any of this?”
Lucas wanted to throw up his hands. Wanted to hog-tie her and throw her over his shoulder and carry her away to safety. All reason had fled from her the moment he’d told her the truth about the assassin.
Lucas couldn’t bring himself to consider this man bent on killing Victoria as her son. He supposed, to a degree, he was being irrational, as well. The only difference was he was trying to save her life.
“You’ve ordered my men to leave,” he argued. “You want to just let this man—this killer, need I remind you—waltz in here and do whatever he pleases.”
“That killer,” she said pointedly, “is my child.”
“Yes, I understand that he’s your child,” he half shouted, exasperated. “I understand it well.”
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes once more. “You can’t possibly. Lucas, I know you love me, but you can’t possibly even fathom how this feels.” She moved closer to him, her hands clasped together in front of her. “I carried him inside me for nine months…held him close to my heart as a baby, then taught him how to tie his shoes…how to brush his teeth properly. I tucked him into bed at night, read stories with him. He felt safe with me.” A single teardrop slipped down her cheek. “And I let him down. I let that monster steal him from me and I couldn’t save him. Can you honestly say that you…” She paused a moment to compose herself. “You can’t know how that feels.”
He pulled her into his arms, held on tight when she resisted. “You’re right,” he confessed softly. “I can’t possibly know how it feels. But, dear God, I can’t let him harm you. Can you understand that?”
She nodded. “I know it’s because you love me. But I have to do this, Lucas. I have to. Because he’s my son, and I love him.”
He did understand that. But he would do this his way. She didn’t have to know that his people had taken up sniper positions all around the cabin. He’d insisted the meeting take place on the deck just for that reason. Inside, his people couldn’t put a bullet in the assassin’s head. He suppressed a shudder at the too-vivid image that accompanied that thought.
Killing her son was the last thing he wanted to have to do, but he had ordered his men to trust their instincts. His Specialists would not shoot to kill unless it was absolutely necessary.
Back at the Colby Agency Ian and Simon had been put on alert. Victoria had insisted that they merely stand by. Neither of the men liked it, but would obey her orders, just as Lucas’s would obey his.
He held the woman in his arms more firmly for a few seconds more, then drew back to look into her eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it, I do understand that you feel compelled to do this. But you must understand also that I will do whatever I have to in order to protect you.”
She smiled faintly. “That’s a given, Lucas.” She took his hands in hers and held them close to her heart. “I only wish I could protect you, but you won’t go, as I’ve asked you to. I’d rather you were safe from whatever is going to take place.”
Asked? She’d demanded that he leave her here alone. She could forget that one. He gave her an answering smile. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to face this together.”
Tears glimmered in her eyes once more. “Then so be it.”
He desperately hoped it wouldn’t be the last thing they did together.
* * *
Seth braked to a stop at the entrance to the long drive that would take them to the cabin where Lucas and Victoria waited.
Tasha watched Seth survey their surroundings. The woods were dense, most of the brilliant fall foliage still clinging to their limbs. Vivid hues of orange and gold and rust against the varying shades of gray bark formed an ironically natural backdrop for the wholly unnatural scene about to play out.
Seth was intent on killing his mother. She knew his plan. Lucas, no doubt, had estimated what he had in mind, as well. Though they might sit here now and see nothing but the lovely forest landscape, danger lurked in every direction. Lucas’s Specialists would have taken careful positions to protect their leader and the woman he loved.
“They’re going to kill you, you know,” Tasha murmured as much to herself as to him. He knew exactly what was going to happen and he didn’t care. But she did…she cared far more than she should.
“Not before I accomplish my goal,” he said without reservation. And she didn’t doubt his certainty.
He intended to tell Victoria Colby what Leberman had done to him and then he fully intended to kill her.
There would be no happy ending.
Dread and fear and regret all churned in Tasha’s stomach. Whatever happened this afternoon, no one would walk away untouched by the horror of Errol Leberman.
The bastard had won.
The SUV rolled forward, slowly making its way down the long, narrow dirt-and-gravel road that led to certain death.
Though Maverick had given her specific orders along with the time and place of the meeting when Seth finally allowed her to call him back, she had no intention of obeying those orders. He’d told her to stay out of the line of fire, not to get involved.
She knew what that meant. They had it covered. Every possible scenario had been run. Every precaution taken. As far as they were concerned, if anyone died today it would not be Victoria Colby or Lucas Camp. Tasha was to stay out of the way. Seth would be terminated if they couldn’t control the situation. She didn’t need anyone to spell it out for her.
Seth had to know this. He was far too smart to believe he would get away with what he had planned. Simply walking in and shooting Victoria wasn’t going to happen. But something inside him had changed after he’d looked at those photographs and newspaper clippings. The rage was still there but it was different somehow.
He stopped in front of the cabin and turned off the engine. He took out his 9mm and faced her. “Slide over the console and get out on my side.”
“Wait.” She grabbed him by the shirtsleeve when he would have opened his door. “It’s not too late to just drive away.” She searched that icy gaze for any flicker of uncertainty and found none.
“It’s been too late for eighteen years.”
There was something in his voice…some emotion that she’d never heard before. “Seth, I don’t want you to die.”
For one fleeting instant she thought she’d reached him. He looked at her with an intensity that made her believe he felt something for her…something beyond the physical attraction.
“I’m already dead.”
With that simple yet profound statement he got out of the vehicle and she had no choice but to follow. She blinked back the tears and cursed herself for loss of all professionalism. What the hell kind of field operative would she make if she couldn’t keep it together any better than this?
His weapon resting against the back of her skull, she led the way around the cabin to the back deck, just as Lucas had ordered. Other than the occasional seagull and the lapping of water against the shoreline, absolute silence crushed in around them. She felt the weight of it directly on her chest, making each breath difficult.
When they rounded the rear corner of the cabin, the deck came into view.
Tasha tried to slow her step, but he urged her forward with the muzzle of his 9 mm. Victoria waited on the deck, Lucas at her side. Neither of them appeared armed.
As they moved up the steps, Tasha could see the devastation and the anticipation cluttering Victoria’s weary face. She drank in the sight of her son as if he were the answer to her prayers rather than an assassin determined to end her life. And he was. She had likely prayed ceaselessly for his return. Did it have to end like this?
“Jimmy?” she offered, her expression so hopeful it made Tasha’s heart ache to lo
ok at her.
Seth pushed Tasha aside, leaving nothing between him and Victoria except a six-foot span of thick-with-tension air and aged wooden deck.
“That’s right,” he said tightly. “Your long-lost son has returned.”
His every feature was set in stone. His eyes as cold as ice as he stared at the woman who had given birth to him…who’d loved him and cared for him for the first seven years of his life. But he didn’t remember that time… Leberman had erased it. Had tortured him until he forgot all else but the pain. Until he knew nothing but the lies.
“Don’t do this, Seth,” Tasha pleaded, praying somehow her voice would get through to him. The hand holding his weapon hung loosely at his side. If he lifted it, even a fraction, she was certain he would be terminated.
“Listen to her,” Lucas urged. “Leberman is dead. Let the past die with him. You’ve got a chance for a new beginning here. We know he did this to you. We—”
Fury erupted across Seth’s face and he aimed all that rage at Lucas then. “You don’t know anything.” He ripped open his shirt with his free hand, displaying the hideous scars like badges of honor. “You have no idea what I’ve endured. What he did to me.” He turned back to Victoria. “What he paid others to do to me.”
Victoria drew in a shuddering breath. “I would give anything to change that.” Tears spilled past her lashes, and Tasha’s heart squeezed so hard for her and this man who could not bear what life had done to him that she lost her breath.
“Please,” Victoria urged, “please, let me help you.”
Seth shook his head. “It’s too late. I’ve waited a long time for this moment. To be able to look into your eyes and see the horror when you learned the truth…when you realized what your precious son had suffered because of your negligence. I wanted to be certain that you took that knowledge to hell with you. So watch closely.”
At the same instant that he lifted his weapon Tasha suddenly understood what he intended to do.
She hurled her body at his. “No-o-o-o-o!”
The sharp crack of a high-powered rifle rent the air.
The impact knocked her off her feet.
Slammed her against the wooden deck.
She blinked at the sun, confused, numb.
Seth stared down at her…blocking the bright light like a sudden eclipse.
The weapon slipped from his fingers.
Frantic voices.
Hurried footsteps.
He dropped to his knees beside her. His lips moved…called her name…. His voice followed her into the darkness.
CHAPTER 40
There was hope.
Victoria sat very still in the private visitation room and recalled those moments after the gunshot rang out.
Tasha had realized his intentions and shoved him out of the line of fire. She’d taken the bullet intended for him.
Thankfully the result had merely been a shoulder injury, but it had required immediate surgery. She was fine now. It could have been so much worse. She and Victoria both had learned something about the men in their lives. Lucas, contrary to her specific orders, had stationed his people around the cabin. Blue Callahan had taken the shot which had been intended only to disarm the man wielding the handgun.
But he hadn’t come there to kill Victoria, they now knew. He’d decided to destroy her in a completely different manner. She was to have acknowledged that her son was indeed alive and the extent of what he’d suffered, then she would witness his assassination, ordered by the man she loved. That was to have been her final punishment, her destruction, for having allowed her son to fall into Leberman’s hands. He had assumed Lucas’s orders were to shoot to kill. She might never know precisely what had altered his course…the discovery of the mementos she’d left on the bed, possibly. The old newspaper clippings and keepsakes from his childhood. Perhaps fate had been on her side for once.
Despite the turmoil of those frantic moments when the gun had slipped from his hand and half a dozen Specialists had swarmed onto the deck, she had watched this would-be assassin…her son…fall to his knees next to Tasha. She’d seen the pained expression of helplessness on his hard, unyielding face as he’d watched the blood soak into Tasha’s blouse.
That’s when Victoria had known there was hope.
He wasn’t completely without emotion…he could still feel. He’d felt something at that moment. And some basic human compassion had rendered him unable to execute her or maybe he’d simply thought that watching him die would be more devastating to her. She couldn’t be sure. Despite the horrors he’d suffered she was so thankful he was alive…to have him back. As selfish as that was, she couldn’t help herself.
If only the doctors could get through to him. The team of medical experts working on his case had insisted that he could have no contact with anyone for a period of thirty days while they evaluated his condition. Victoria had waited impatiently for the time to pass. Tasha had waited with similar anticipation.
The day had finally arrived.
Victoria, of course, being immediate family would go first.
She didn’t know what to expect. The doctors had warned her that he was uncooperative, even violent at times, but those moments had lessened in frequency the past couple of weeks. Despite his decision to allow one of Lucas’s people to kill him in front of her, he wasn’t considered suicidal, just determined to wield the ultimate blow. He refused medication, resisted hypnosis and outright defied their attempts to analyze him. The one thing he had done that even hinted at cooperation was to study the photo albums and other mementos Victoria provided. That was the only thing he really appeared to respond to. The doctors were amazed he even accepted the suggestion to view them. He’d adamantly refused to give them up since.
She couldn’t help but smile. He’d definitely inherited his father’s stubborn determination. Well, admittedly, he’d gotten some of that from her. Being exposed to the moments they had shared before he was kidnapped might not change anything, but maybe, just maybe, it would tear down that wall Leberman had erected. If Seth…Jimmy, remembered even one moment they’d spent together as a family, he would know without question how very much he’d been loved. Still was.
For that very reason, Victoria knew what she had to do.
It had to be done today.
* * *
Seth stared beyond the bars that obscured his view from the window of his room. He watched the people moving about outside. It was colder now, forcing them to wear coats and hats. He touched the glass and wondered if he would ever be free again.
He didn’t actually care about his freedom, but he did want to find Tasha. To see with his own eyes that she was all right. That bullet she’d taken had been intended for him. He could no longer deny that she felt something for him. Anyone who took a bullet for another person definitely cared. But no one would give him any significant information, only that she had survived and was fine. He banged his fist against the glass in futility. He hated being trapped in this mental institution.
No matter how they prettied it up or how much it cost to be here, that’s what it was. A frown tugged at his mouth. He didn’t like the questions they asked him…the way they made him remember too many details of the past. He preferred to forget. But they just kept digging, kept prodding for more. What the hell did it matter? He was screwed up. It didn’t take a whole damned team of shrinks to figure that out. And until one month ago he hadn’t really given a damn.
But things were different now. He lived and breathed for one thing, to see Tasha again.
Nothing else mattered.
Leberman was a ghost who only haunted him in his dreams. The past couldn’t hurt him anymore, except when those mind excavators started their digging. He blocked it out the rest of the time. He glanced at the table across the room and the photo albums there.
> She had sent those.
Victoria…his mother.
She wanted him to remember…like he had for that one instant when Tasha had first shown him those newspaper clippings. A hundred memories had come flooding into his head, overwhelming him. But he’d tried to push them away, the same way he always had. It was easier not to remember. But the knowledge that his parents had searched for him had somehow changed something inside him. Made it difficult to keep the memories at bay. Had rendered him unable to execute his original plan. He’d told himself that watching him die would wield much more devastation, but he wasn’t so sure of his motives now. He simply hadn’t been able to kill her. Hadn’t been able to strike.
And now, she wouldn’t go away.
The doctors said that she required daily briefings on his progress. That she was coming to see him today. The frown that had been annoying his mouth worked its way up and across his forehead. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see her. What she’d shown him with her old photos confused him.
He heard the lock on his door being disengaged and he knew she was here. Lunch was over, and he didn’t have any appointments this afternoon. It had to be her.
Two orderlies stepped into the room. The tallest one said to him when he turned around, “Okay, Mr. Colby, let’s make this easy, shall we?”
He didn’t like being referred to as Mr. Colby, but they all called him that. Like it would change who he really was. But then…he didn’t even know who he was. Little Jimmy Colby had died in a cold, dark basement a long time ago. And Seth, the man he had become, was missing in action in a lot of ways. They’d even removed the tattoo that Leberman had used to mark him as a beast.
He allowed the two men to restrain his hands in front of him with transparent nylon bands. This place was too ritzy to use iron shackles, but the effect was the same. They led him to the visitation area. Not the one the rest of the residents used, but one especially for him since he was considered dangerous.
He didn’t miss the relief on the two men’s faces when they’d reached their destination.
